


To the Letter

by forgetme



Category: Naruto
Genre: Canon Disabled Character, Fluff, M/M, Miscommunication, Misunderstandings, Post-Chapter 699, Pre-Slash, references to canon character death
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-10-14
Updated: 2015-11-23
Packaged: 2018-04-26 08:50:21
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,213
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4998424
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/forgetme/pseuds/forgetme
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Among other things.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

“So,” Kakashi said, “what are your plans now?“ He was standing in his office, leaning comfortably against his desk, hands braced on its polished wooden surface. Konoha behind him, framed in the window like a painting.

Gai shifted in his wheelchair. He hated being confined like this, forced into stasis, his legs stiff and weak like dried up wood. Ever since he’d woken up in the hospital he wore his grin like a shield, the way his father had wielded his smile, his sincere words of gratitude.

Seeing Kakashi in his Hokage outfit was frustrating. He wanted to be happy for his rival, he really did, but there was this irritating little voice in his head whispering, _you’ll never catch up to him now._

As for Kakashi’s question, Gai didn’t have an answer. The truth he wouldn’t speak was that he was still reeling from everything that had happened. It was as if he wasn’t all there yet, as if a part of him was still burning in the flames of the last gate. At the funeral he had felt something inside himself crumbling, desperately he’d wanted to let go of his hopes and dreams for Neji, to let them rise up into the sky like the smoke from the crematorium, but that didn’t happen. They clawed into him instead, festering.

Too much time had passed; Kakashi was frowning at him, a distinct crease between his eyebrows, the first touching hint of worry.

“Gai?”

He shook himself visibly, hoping Kakashi would assume he’d been lost in thoughts of the future, not the past, and forced a splendid smile. “I haven’t decided yet, rival! The sky’s the limit!” His voice could have filled a much bigger room than the Hokage office; it sounded strong and unbreakable even though Gai felt the opposite. He was about to elaborate on all the things he could see himself doing in the future, but Kakashi spoke first.

“I see…” There was a smile under Kakashi’s mask, matching his bemused tone. Gai could tell; he didn’t pride himself on being an expert when it came to Kakashi’s mostly hidden facial expressions for nothing. “I have something I’ve wanted to show you for quite some time now. I just never found the right moment. But for now… Things seem to have calmed down a bit.”

A hint of doubt in that last sentence, Kakashi’s usual pessimism. Gai would have scolded him if he hadn’t felt so unsettled. _You were made Hokage, rival,_ he should have shouted, _saying something generic like things have calmed down doesn’t do it justice! Stop acting so aloof!_

Instead of their usual banter, however, the room was filled with silence. Only sounds from the other side if the double doors drifted in, footsteps along the hallway, the _ding_ of the newly installed elevator.

Again Gai shifted uncomfortably. His lower back hurt from sitting so long; it was something he knew he would have to get used to and the pain was negligible, but whenever he thought about it resentment spiked inside him. Why should _he_ have to get used to _this_?

Gai pushed the bitter question away and focused on Kakashi, who had stepped away from the desk and pulled something out of the pocket of his white coat as he approached.

“Here, read this.”

Perplexed, Gai accepted the object Kakashi held out to him, a strange thing, just a piece of paper but locked inside a plastic bag to keep it safe.

When he really looked at it, he saw that it was old, crinkly and the writing on it somewhat faded. He didn’t recognize the handwriting; it definitely wasn’t Kakashi’s.

_My son,_

Gai looked up from the paper in his hands, confused by this first line. Kakashi just looked at him expectantly and when Gai didn’t react, gave a slight nod telling him to go ahead.

_I wish I had the words to tell you how much the thought of leaving you hurts me, how much I already hate myself for doing this to you. Please believe me, this is the hardest decision I ever had to make. You mean more to me than anything. That’s why I have no other choice. Without me here your life will be easier; people will forget my mistakes – even if they may not forgive them – and you will be able to become your own man._

_I am proud of you, Kakashi._

Gai’s head snapped up. With every word of the letter, his suspicion had solidified, but now that he had confirmation, he couldn’t just keep reading. “This is…”

“My father’s suicide note,” Kakashi said. His voice didn’t betray any emotion, but he leaned down and put a hand on Gai’s shoulder, giving it a light squeeze as though Gai was the one who might need comfort. “There’s something in there I want you to read.”

Frowning, Gai went back to the letter. Despite Kakashi’s encouragement it still felt wrong to read this when it was clearly not meant for anyone but Kakashi.

“This part.” The tip of Kakashi’s index finger landed on a line a little further to the left of the page. Obediently, Gai looked where Kakashi pointed and continued to read.

_There is one other thing I don’t want you to forget, Kakashi. You have friends and you need them. That boy, Maito Gai, don’t push him away. He’s a good kid, you may not have much faith in me now, but believe me, I can tell. Keep him close, keep him by your side, don’t make the mistakes I did, don’t let someone who cares about you this much slip away._

“That’s…” To say Gai was touched would have been an epic understatement. To think that Hatake Sakumo wrote such wonderful words about him in his last letter to his son! Gai had to stifle a sob, his shoulders were trembling under Kakashi’s warm hand. The movement intensified the pain in his lower back, but Gai could not have cared less.

“This is my father’s last wish and I want to make good on it. I want you by my side, Gai.”

He sounded so formal. Wiping the tears from his eyes with his sleeve, Gai looked up into Kakashi’s soft eyes. For once, Gai was unsure how to interpret Kakashi’s expression.

Kakashi took back the letter and Gai used the moment to try to get his bearings. He cleared his throat in the most manly way he could manage.

“Does that mean you want me to work as your personal bodyguard and assistant, Hokage-sama?” he asked. The thought excited Gai. During his recovery, which, Tsunade-sama had told him when she released him from the hospital, wasn’t complete yet, it hadn’t looked like he would ever be put on the active duty roster again.

Kakashi smiled; Gai could see the light in his eyes, a warm glimmer of honest pleasure and hope.

“Yes, among other things. I want you by my side, Gai. In every way. How do you feel about that?” Kakashi’s hand hadn’t moved from Gai’s shoulder; it was still squeezing gently.

Only one way to reply to that!

“Wonderful! With my youthful support, Kakashi, you’ll be Konoha’s greatest Hokage yet! That’s a promise!”

They’d told him he would never be the way he was before. And in many ways, even Gai knew that, they were probably right. Working with Kakashi, however… There was a chance he would see action again after all.

So what if things could never be the same again?

Same wasn’t what Gai aimed for anyway; he always aimed for better.

 

TBC?


	2. Chapter 2

Gai had slept badly, the way he did now every night. Finding a comfortable position was made an impossibility by the cast on his leg. He would twist and turn, his body heavy yet restless. Before, he used to sleep on his side and it was this habit which made him roll over, trying to assume his preferred position, but doing so only ever woke him up, his injured leg either pressing down on the other one or sending jolts of agony up his spine with every wrong movement.

But since it was his first official day of work in his new job at the Hokage office, Gai, longing for sleep and the dreams of flying across Konoha’s rooftops it might bring, forced a smile despite the fatigue.

This was a challenge; there was only one way to face it.

So Gai rolled into the Hokage Residence with his chest puffed out and his head held high.

He was early, which he figured showed his boundless motivation, his eagerness to get to work. There couldn’t be a single person in all of Konoha more ready to start their new job! Here he was, brimming with energy!

The memory of Kakashi showing him his father’s letter was locked inside his heart, among the most precious ones he had. Kakashi was a distant person, emotionally detached, cool and aloof, ever the unreachable genius. But, no, that had changed, gradually. His students had changed him, and, yes, Gai had laid the groundwork for that.

So he could be proud. His friendship had been a guiding light for Kakashi during darker times! He, Maito Gai, had--

The elevator doors slid shut and suddenly Gai was faced with his own reflection, eyes filled with determination, back rigid, staring back at him from the shiny silver surface.

It was still a challenge to face this image, to face himself as he was now. Gai took a deep breath, forcing his body to relax. Instinctively his fingers had clamped tightly around the handrails on his wheelchair, the metal warm in his grip. The thought of this very warmth, his own body heat, never fading from this inanimate object he was bound to now…

Gai grit his teeth. He couldn’t be this kind of person, a bitter man, someone who clung to the past as a lifeline because he couldn’t face the present. When it came down to it, he didn’t even need the wheelchair, he could use crutches, he could even manage to limp short distances although the pain was excruciating. The wheelchair was simply the most convenient solution at the moment.

But Neji… That little voice inside his head again. There were things he could never get back, he knew that, no youthful attitude could gloss over that fact. This was a lesson he’d learned a long time ago, his father had taught him, inadvertently. Now all that was left to him of Neji were memories, pale and lifeless, nothing but shadows of the wonderful genius student he had lost.  
Meeting the dark eyes of his reflection, Gai allowed himself a soft sigh. He could do this. Because he had to.

* * *

  
The office was quiet when Gai approached the closed double doors. No sound could be heard in the empty hallway but the soft swish of the wheels on the wooden floor. If even Shizune wasn’t here yet, there was no chance the Hokage was in.

Gai was carrying the key to the office in his pocket. He felt the small hard object against his hip. It was poking him through the tight spandex suit. The fabric was thin and the metal would probably wear through it sooner or later, but for some reason Gai liked the feeling of the key so close to his skin. Kakashi had given him the key right after showing him Sakumo-san’s letter.

Of course there were traps on the door too. Gai had learned to unlock them from Shizune while Kakashi watched, casting unreadable glances over a stack of documents once in awhile. Shizune bent at the waist to show Gai, lowering herself to his level.

The seals were complex, but Gai had practised. He hadn’t had much else to do and he’d always been bad at hand seals, so he’d thought it was a good opportunity to get better. There was always something one could improve.

He did them now, in quick succession: monkey, dragon, rat, ox, hare, ox, horse, dog.

There was a click and it startled him because there wasn’t supposed to be a click, there was supposed to be the soft blue glow of chakra dispersing, and yet there was a click as the door knob moved and the door swung open.

Without thinking Gai jerked his wheelchair backwards, his hand going to the weapons pouch he could no longer wear because of the chair.

And of course, Kakashi was standing there, in full Hokage gear, an expression of mild curiosity on his mostly covered face. “Gai? I expected you earlier, to be honest.”

“Wha-- Kakashi?” Gai blinked and straightened and tried very hard to recover his bright, determined and motivated demeanor. His first impulse was to yell at his rival for his hip and modern and far too cool attitude. No doubt, the only reason for Kakashi to show up early for his job for once was to startle and tease Gai! But then Gai took in the long white coat and he realized that he couldn’t really do that. Kakashi was his superior now, the leader of his hidden village. Gai couldn’t act like they were still just friends. Not anymore.

“Hokage-sama,” Gai said, nodding in greeting, his heart suddenly heavy in his chest.

That gave Kakashi pause, Gai thought he could see something rearrange itself in the Hokage’s expression. His eyes narrowed a little, making them appear darker. Kakashi took a step back and held the door open. He turned, leaning against the door to make room for Gai to squeeze past. It was awkward and Gai wondered why Kakashi hadn’t just walked inside first as he maneuvered his wheelchair into the office, careful not to roll over Kakashi’s toes.

“You don’t have to be so formal. It’s just us,” Kakashi said as he walked past Gai to sit down behind his desk. His big leather chair creaked softly under his weight. It was stuffed, an impressive piece of furniture, and, Gai couldn’t help thinking, probably much more comfortable than Gai’s wheelchair.

“You’re Hokage now, Kakashi...sama!” Kakashi had a point, it was weird to use the honorific, but still. “You made it this far, it would be wrong to act like nothing has happened!” That first day in front of the academy. So much had happened since then. Gai could barely even picture those two boys anymore; they were completely different people and their fathers were long gone. If he’d had any idea what his future would be, would he have done things differently? Would Kakashi?

“Gai, have you already forgotten what I told you yesterday?” Kakashi let out an exaggerated sigh and rubbed his forehead like a tired old man. “I know your memory isn’t very good… plus, you’re getting on in years…”

That certainly took care of Gai’s melancholic mood. “Oi!” he shouted, ready to launch into a speech on his ever increasing level of youth and virility. Kakashi, however, stalled his protest with a wave of his hand.

“I meant what I said. I want you by my side, Gai.”

“And I’m here! Maito Gai, your trusted assistant and bodyguard, Rokudaime-sama!” Saying that felt pretty good, Gai thought. He beamed, hoping for the light to hit his teeth just right. He’d brushed them extra hard this morning; their white should be bright enough to blot out the sun!

Kakashi frowned. He took off his hat and placed it on the desk in front of him. He looked at Gai, a curiously troubled expression on his face. If he was impressed by Gai’s stellar dental hygiene, he didn’t show it.

“I want you to call me by my name. You did it yesterday, so why not now?”

“I’m working for you now! You made me your subordinate,” Gai said, then when Kakashi’s expression only darkened, he added hastily, “I’m happy to be by your side like this! I can’t wait to spring into action!”

“That’s not what I--” Kakashi shook his head. “Gai, I’ve thought a lot about my father’s last message to me. At first I rejected it, of course. You know how I was back then. But over the years I realized--”

Shaking his head again, Kakashi got to his feet. “As I said, I’ve thought a lot about it. I know that my dad probably didn’t mean… well, we were kids back then so he couldn’t have. But I do think he saw something in you.”

Kakashi was pacing a little and Gai was tracking his movements with his eyes, silently cursing the wheelchair that made it impossible for him to walk up to Kakashi and put a hand on his rival’s shoulder.

“I want you to be by my side as my equal,” Kakashi said finally.

As heartwarming as that was, as much as Kakashi’s words touched him, Gai had to chuckle.

They both knew that for all their technological progress, hidden villages were incredibly rigid when it came to hierarchy. Every little kid knew there couldn’t be anyone equal in status to the current Hokage. Unless Gai was going to succeed Kakashi as the Seventh, there was no way they could ever truly be equal again.

“Kakashi, I am deeply touched, but you know there’s no way for me now…” saying the words made certainty settle like a rock in his stomach. He thought of his reflection in the cold metal elevator doors. The unforgiving white of the cast on his leg matching Kakashi’s coat.

“A kage needs someone by his side,” Kakashi said, interrupting Gai’s thoughts. “The First had his wife and his brother, the Second had his students, the Third had his wife and his council, Minato-sensei had Kushina-san and Tsunade-sama had Shizune.”

“Yes, their trusted assistants and counselors.” Gai nodded vigorously. He was proud to fill this role for Kakashi, even though it meant working as his subordinate.

“And their wives,” Kakashi said in a way that made it sound as though he was making an important point instead of just adding a side note for the sake of completeness.

“And their wives?” Gai echoed.

Kakashi had come to a stop right in front of him. Now he crouched down and put his hands on the armrests of Gai’s wheelchair. He was smiling, both eyes closed, his usual fox smile.

“Gai, I’ve been thinking, rather than my assistant, I want you to be my wife.”

The words hung in the room like treacherous meathooks. Had he been standing up, Gai would have fallen down, completely pole-axed. At first he couldn’t believe his ears, then he looked at Kakashi’s casual smile.

“That’s not funny.” His voice was dry and ice cold. After the eighth gate he hadn’t thought he could feel such fire ever again, but right now fury was burning up his insides. Kakashi’s sense of humor was as cruel as ever. What did he think Gai was? An emasculated cripple who couldn’t be the Hokage’s bodyguard?  
He pulled back abruptly, shaking off Kakashi’s hands as he whipped his chair around to head for the doors.

“Gai! Wait! I meant--” Kakashi’s voice followed him down the hallway, but when the doors of the elevator closed behind Gai, they cut off the Hokage’s words as well, leaving only silence.


End file.
